Christmas Wishes and Mistletoe Kisses: A feel good Christmas romance novel Page 11

  He was quietly watching her, studying her words as she released them into the air between them. He was listening, and the sight of it made her shoulders relax a little.

  “Okay,” he said. Nick was quiet again, the red Ferrari beside them taunting her, reminding her how no matter what things they’d shared, they were both very different people. Nick pulled his phone out again. “Richard is sending out Kenneth who is one of our groundsmen but he also knows quite a bit about cars. His father is a mechanic, and he taught him the trade. Maybe he can figure out what’s wrong with it.”

  “I need it to start right now. I have to get Max and I’m late,” she said, still trying to get her emotions in check.

  Nick texted something else while Abbey got back into her car and tried again, unsuccessfully, to start the engine. She looked at her fuel levels and engine temperature. Totally fine. Then, her focus shifted to the most gorgeous black Mercedes she’d ever seen in her life, rounding the drive at the side of the house. Another car?

  Nick opened the back door to her Toyota and pulled the booster seat from the backseat. The car came to a stop and Richard got out. He held the key out to Nick and Nick traded him, giving Richard the Ferrari key, his head shaking back and forth subtly to let Richard know he’d best take it back to the garage.

  “Thank you, Richard. Would you have Kenneth take a look at Ms. Fuller’s car? If he can’t fix it, please have it serviced and then delivered to her home.” He handed Abbey his cell phone through the open window. “Text your address to Richard, and he’ll get your car fixed for you.” He opened the door of the Mercedes and set Max’s ratty booster in the backseat. “In the meantime, I’ll drive you to get Max.” He motioned for her to leave her car and get in.

  As she slid into the car, she expected the leather interior to be cold from the winter weather but the seats were soft and warm. She tried to keep her feet in one place so as not to dirty the floorboards as she looked around the car. It was a convertible. What would it be like in the summer when he put the top down? She could only imagine the heat of the beating sun on her face, the wind in her hair. Her gaze slid to the console. There were so many buttons that she didn’t know if she was in a car or an airplane. Nick got into the other side and the car came to life, a screen lighting up in the center. She’d never been in anything like this before.

  “You were going to take Max to see Santa…”

  “Yes,” she said, trying to focus on his face and not the millions of shiny buttons all around him. “I’ll just have to explain to him what happened.”

  “He’ll be disappointed?”

  “Probably. He was really looking forward to giving Santa Claus his Christmas list. But as soon as my car’s working again I can take him.”

  “I’ll drive you and Max to see Santa.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to.”

  “I know I don’t have to, but I will. I’d already planned on it after you wouldn’t take the Ferrari. That’s why I put Max’s booster seat in the back.” He threw his thumb up in the direction of the backseat and Abbey turned to look at it. Max’s shabby plastic seat, its center fabric spotted from spills and dirt, sat on the plush leather, and she had to fight the urge to brush the crumbs off the top of it.

  Nick put the car in drive, the engine purring.

  “I’m sure you have better things to do,” she said, knowing that she’d already kept him from his work earlier by insisting he see the decorated rooms.

  He glanced over at her, a grin on his face. Perhaps he’d enjoyed their time together today.

  “So you want to take us?”

  “If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have put the seat in the back. I was serious when I said it the first time.”

  “Okay,” she said, still not convinced.

  As they drove, and she started to get used to the comfort of the Mercedes, it dawned on her that, if they were getting Max, Nick was going to have to go into her apartment. He would meet her mother who was watching Max. She knew her mom would probably want to freshen up, and tidy the apartment, but she didn’t know how to warn them.

  “Which way?” Nick asked as they came to a four-way stop.

  “Straight. …I’m just going to text my mother and let her know she needs to have Max ready. Maybe she can even send him out, so we won’t have to get out of the warm car. Let me just make sure Max has his Christmas outfit on…” She pulled out her phone and quickly texted: Nick Sinclair is on his way over to my apartment! I’m with him! You have five minutes. Put Max in his red sweater and make everything look awesome! I owe you!

  Her phone lit up in her hand moments later. WHAT?! HE’S COMING HERE! I CAN’T… Abbey quickly swiped the message away so that Nick couldn’t see it and dropped it into her handbag.

  As Abbey directed Nick to her apartment, she was thinking about the impression she’d be making. She thought about her tiny Christmas tree, the red felt stockings she’d made with Max, their names in wobbly glitter across the tops. She wondered if her bed was made. Had the dishes been done? Had she left that little pile of dirty clothes in the corner of her bathroom?

  They pulled up to her apartment and parked. “I’ll just text Mom and see if she can send Max out.” She pulled her phone from her handbag.

  She typed very quickly: Mom, send Max out.

  Only a moment later her phone immediately lit up: I can’t find his red sweater. I texted that to you but didn’t hear back.

  She wracked her brain for any idea as to where that red sweater was. She texted back: Is it on the dryer?

  Her mom: No.

  Abbey: How about in his third dresser drawer?

  Nick looked over at her. “What’s the problem?”

  “My mom can’t find Max’s sweater.”

  “So why don’t we go in and help her?”

  Abbey bit her lip as she scrambled for a response.

  Nick turned off the engine, got out, and walked around the back of the car. He opened her door and motioned for her to get out. With a feeling of dread, she exited the car and headed toward the staircase leading to her apartment. Her phone was still lighting up but she ignored it. When they got to apartment C8, Abbey slid the key in the lock and opened the door.

  “Mama!” Max came running toward her, holding on to his Spider-Man action figure. He wrapped his arms around her and buried his head in her torso. Then, he pulled back and looked up. “Hi, Nick!” he said with a big grin.

  “Hello,” Nick said to Max with a smile before looking up and greeting Abbey’s mom. She had clearly put on lipstick, the color clashing with the red of her shirt. Abbey knew how she felt. She wanted to spruce everything up. “Nick Sinclair,” he said with authority as he shook her mom’s hand.

  “Leanne Fuller.” Her mom smiled nervously and took a step back. “Would you like to have a seat?” In a rush, she collected the storybooks, one of Max’s pillows, and a few toys from the sofa cushions.

  Nick thanked her and sat down.

  “Would you like something to drink?”

  “No, thank you. I’m just fine.”

  An awkward silence slithered between everyone after that. Max had run off to his room, and her mom was still smiling, wringing her hands, and glancing back and forth between Abbey and Nick.

  “We’ve had a slight change of plans,” Abbey said, breaking the silence. “I’ve had a little car trouble so Nick is taking us to see Santa.”

  “Oh!” her mom said a little too enthusiastically. “How wonderful.”

  “Did you find his red sweater?”

  “No,” her mom said.

  “Would you help me look for it?” Abbey asked, trying to tell her more with her eyes as she asked the question.

  Max came running out with his magic question ball. “Look what I have, Nick!” he said, climbing onto the sofa and leaning on Nick’s lap. Abbey worried he’d wrinkle Nick’s perfectly pressed trousers. “It answers your questions. Watch.” Max turned the ball over. “Will Santa think I’m a good boy this year?” He
shook the ball and read the answer. “It is probable.” He looked at Nick. “What does probable mean?”

  “It means that it’s likely. It’s possible.”

  Abbey grabbed her mom by the arm and yanked her down the hallway.

  “Would you like to explain to me what’s going on?” her mom whispered, her voice breathy and almost desperate for answers. “Quickly.”

  “My car didn’t start at his house!” Abbey said as quietly as she could. “He just showed up and offered to take us to see Santa. I didn’t ask him. You know I never would.”

  Her mom clasped her hands over her mouth to stifle an excited giggle.

  “Shhh.” Abbey batted her laughter away. “Help me find Max’s sweater before Nick gets a chance to take in any more of my house! I wish I’d have known. I would’ve cleaned better.”

  The two women rummaged around in Max’s room, tossing things left and right. They were quiet but the nervous energy was palpable. It wasn’t often that Abbey had a millionaire sitting on her sofa, his Mercedes parked out front, waiting for her to get herself and her son together.

  “Found it!” she said, grabbing it off the top of a pile in the closet. She held it up, and her mom looked visibly relieved.

  Abbey walked out into the living room. Nick was still on the sofa, but he was sitting on the edge of it, Max on his lap, and they were asking the magic question ball questions. Max was bouncing on Nick’s knee and the two of them looked so natural and relaxed, like they’d known each other all their lives. Max looked up.

  “Let’s change your sweater,” she said. She worried about Max taking a liking to Nick. Their time was limited, and Max might be disappointed when he didn’t get to see him again. “And then we get to take a ride in Nick’s fancy car!” she said, trying to shake the worry.

  “We do?” Max hopped up and ran over to his mother while simultaneously pulling his arms inside his T-shirt. Abbey pulled it over his head and draped it on the chair. Her mom came in behind her and scooped it up, headed for the laundry. Then, Abbey put the sweater over Max’s head, and he assisted her by finding the sleeves himself and pushing his arms through.

  Her mom came back in with a comb. “Just check his face and hair,” she said, handing Abbey the comb while she bent down to adjust the cuffs on his jeans.

  “Get your coat,” her mom said, clearly displacing her nervous energy on Max. “It’s cold. You’ll need to bundle up. How’s his hair?” She turned him around. “You look fantastic.”

  “Let me get my list!” Max said, pulling free and running down to his room. He returned with a small sheet of paper wadded in his fist. As Nick opened the door for Abbey, Max smoothed his list out. “Nick, do you know what I’m asking Santa for this Christmas?”

  Abbey mouthed, “Thank you,” to her mom and her mom smiled, waving in return as she closed the apartment door.

  Max was reading his list to Nick as they walked side by side down the walk to the car. The snow was really coming down. Her sneakers were covered in snow, the canvas feeling wet against her feet. Max was rattling off the end of his list to Nick as he looked up between items, trying to catch snowflakes in his mouth.

  “That’s a great list you have there,” Nick said.

  “It’s all my favorite things. I hope Santa will get them for me, but Mama says sometimes he just can’t fit it all in the sleigh. I tried to make my list full of small things so he could fit them.”

  Nick nodded but made eye contact with Abbey, thoughts clear on his face. Was he reading between the lines? Did he realize that she didn’t have enough money to pay for Max’s presents? Well, this year, she would. He opened the car door for Max.

  “Whoa!” Max said, climbing in. “It’s like a space ship in here!”

  Nick smiled as he allowed Abbey to get in. She slid inside, and he shut the door for her.

  “Mama, this car is cool!” Max said. Nick smiled again as he got in on his side. He seemed to enjoy making Max happy.

  “It is cool,” Abbey said.

  Nick started the car, the windshield wipers pushing the snow to the sides of the glass. He put the car in gear, and as they pulled away, he looked back at Max once more. “Off to see Santa Claus.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “I thought we were going to the mall?” Abbey said as she realized that Nick wasn’t driving in the correct direction. She said it quietly, trying not to let Max hear it. She didn’t want to alarm him.

  “Santa isn’t at the mall,” he answered, his eyes not leaving the road.

  “Yes he is,” Max said from the backseat.

  “Santa is at the Children’s Museum.”

  “What’s the Children’s Museum?” Max asked, and a swell of shame pelted Abbey’s cheeks.

  The Children’s Museum in Richmond had replicas of caves for children to explore, real working trains on which to take rides, whole rooms for painting and stages with all the dress-up costumes one could imagine. It was a child’s dream. Abbey always tried to give Max the best of everything, but funds were limited, and she’d only been with Max to the Children’s Museum a handful of times. It’s not that she didn’t want to take him to a kid’s wonderland full of the latest educational activities and toys, but she just didn’t have enough money. Clearly, it had been so long that he didn’t even remember.

  “Do you remember the place where you sailed the boats in that big water table?” she asked him, recalling how he’d stayed there for hours when he was only about three years old.

  “No. Will I get to sail boats today?”

  “If you want to,” Nick said. “We can play after we see Santa.”

  Abbey didn’t want to have to admit that she didn’t have enough cash to pay for all their entrance tickets to the museum, and she was nearly certain that the photo packages for Santa were going to be more money than she had. She’d planned to snap a few photos on her phone, and she didn’t know if she’d be allowed to do that at the Children’s Museum. It was a good thing she was getting paid for decorating. She’d have to put it on her credit card.

  As a child, she’d heard of the Santa at the Children’s Museum. He used to be at the old department store, Miller and Rhoads. Her friends at school would talk about having tea with him or the big Christmas breakfast that was offered for those who had the money for the most expensive tickets. Her mom, who was a secretary before she retired, had the same money dilemma that Abbey now faced, and Abbey had never been able to go to Miller and Rhoads.

  She’d always gone to the mall. As a kid, she’d heard that the Miller and Rhoads Santa was the real Santa and all the others were just his helpers. She remembered looking very closely at Santa’s beard to see if she could tell if it was real. Luckily, her mom had always found a pretty good Santa, and so, when Max was born, they made sure of the same.

  Nick pulled the car to a stop in the parking lot. The lot didn’t look very busy, which was surprising since she’d heard that the line usually snaked around the whole place and poured out the doors at times. Since it was just after Thanksgiving and a weekday, they’d gotten lucky.

  The heat of the Children’s Museum lobby warmed her, giving her a shiver, as she ushered Max through the glass doors. Nick was holding it open for her, and she had to duck under his arm to get in. Burgundy velvet ropes stretched throughout the lobby like an enormous Christmas maze, and at the front were a few families waiting to get in. Max ran ahead of them through the ropes.

  “Slow down, Max,” Abbey called. “You don’t want to ruin your clothes by falling.”

  Once Max was out of earshot, she turned to Nick. His face was calm and content as he looked down at her. “We could’ve just gone to the mall,” she said. “I know you have work to do—I’ve kept you from it all afternoon.”

  “You get to do this every year,” he said, his face honest. “But I don’t. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Santa Claus.”

  Happiness swelled in her chest, making her smile at his comment. He certainly could be charming when he wan
ted to. “It is fun,” she said, looking over at Max.

  They caught up with Max and moved through the double doors to the carpeted, plush room where Santa sat. The line was busier in there, the snaking velvet ropes continuing on through that room as well. The throne was large and golden, the seat and back a deep spruce green.

  A gorgeous red Santa hat with a dangling white snowball at the end was draped on the back corner of the throne, but Santa wasn’t there. Abbey noticed the concern on Max’s face as the line shuffled forward. A girl dressed like an elf sat smiling at the register. The throne was sitting on a slight stage, and behind it was a real-looking fireplace. On that stage, at the very corner, sat a young woman in a white dress—the dress was so beautiful it could’ve been a wedding dress. She was wearing a diamond tiara, long, white gloves, and what looked to be a very small microphone. It was hardly noticeable.

  “Santa will return shortly,” she said, her voice like wind chimes. She was so young and strikingly beautiful that Abbey almost believed she could be someone magical. “He’s just feeding his reindeer. If you’d like, children, you can sit quietly in your places in line until he returns.”

  Max sat down, a giant smile on his face. He didn’t sit long though before he popped up. He gasped and pointed at the fireplace. Abbey followed his line of sight. To her astonishment, there, floating in the empty space inside the fireplace were two thick, black boots. How did they manage that? she thought. Abbey was just as captivated as her son.

  With a thud, they hit the ground, and she could see the dark red fur of Santa’s costume. Slowly, carefully, he bent down, his white beard showing just as the sound of jingle bells came from somewhere on the roof. He ducked out of the fireplace and stood with a loud, “Ho ho ho!” It all was so realistic that Abbey got goose bumps and she had to rub her arms to relieve them.

  Santa’s hair was long and white, perfectly combed and parted down the middle. His cheeks were rosy like they were in the storybooks Abbey had read as a child. His coat was thick and furry, deep red like his trousers, with white fluffy cuffs that met his white gloves. His beard, clearly real, curled just slightly against the front of his coat. Santa pulled off his gloves and set them on the side table next to his throne.